


Playtime in Arcadia

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [214]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The family enjoys Lelia's performance in her sleepaway camp's presentation of "The Princess Bride."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playtime in Arcadia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suechosethis (sue_chose_this)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sue_chose_this/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Emila-Wan and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3  
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia
> 
> [The Princess Bride](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Princess_Bride_%28film%29)   
>  [The Heritage of Hastur](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Heritage_of_Hastur)   
>  [Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Squirrel_Seeks_Chipmunk)   
>  [Seals And Crofts](http://www.metrolyrics.com/summer-breeze-lyrics-seals-and-crofts.html)
> 
> To Sue and Carol

Lelia woke up to the faint sound of "Reveille" on the pine-scented air.

Her cabin was the one closest to the lake and furthest away from the ritual that started each day at Camp Chommell -- the raising of the flags and the playing of the bugle. The camp flag, a blue and white beauty, flew below the red, white, and blue.

Now that she was fully awake, the first thing Lelia thought of happened to be that her relatives were going to visit her this weekend. The third week of camp was already coming to an end, and she missed them something fierce. Mom and Dad were driving up tomorrow with both grandmas and grandpas, and Uncle Qui and Uncle Wan were arriving tonight. She couldn't wait!

Lelia also couldn't wait to introduce her family to her bunkmates and counselors. They seemed to be particularly interested in her tales of her uncles, which was not surprising after she'd showed off some of her aikido moves. When the campers learned that they'd taught her, everyone was clamoring to meet them. And after her friends saw pictures on her cell phone, she could tell that more than a few had crushes.

Today was Friday, the day before the play which her family was coming to see. She'd have to get up within the next couple of minutes so she could make her bed and tidy her cubbyhole. The campers earned a perfect 10 each day if they kept their cabins neat, and when they accumulated five in a row, they would get a free milkshake at the frozen yogurt shop in town. Quite an incentive for little sweet-tooths!

* * *

Quinn parked his brand-new THX 1138 in the parking lot of the Kalida Lodge in Marlborough, a ten-minute hop from Camp Chommell. He'd traded in his old model for a sleek white convertible that was a honey of a drive. Ian had chosen the color of the interior, a sea-drenched aquamarine, which Quinn liked because it was one of the colors of his husband's eyes.

He'd cranked the ragtop down, and Ian and he had practically flown in from Alder Run, especially since they'd left home at 7 p.m. to miss the rush-hour traffic. They'd tuned in to a local station and perked up as soon as they heard "Hello Mother, Hello Father." Both of them chortled their way through the song and spared a thought for Lelia, in hopes that she was having a better time at Camp Chommell than the poor boy was having at Camp Granada.

Quinn couldn't resist patting the door even before stretching his legs when he got out of the car. Then he headed for the trunk and their duffel bags, smiling when Ian met him there and high-fived him. Their mini-vacation was off to a flying start.

He looked appreciatively at the building in front of him, their home for the next two nights. The clapboard lodge was painted chocolate brown and had cream-colored  
shutters. It was nestled in the midst of a forested wonderland, with spruce, oak, maple, and pine trees shading the grounds. A stream was visible in the distance, calling to him already.

"Looks even better in real life than on the Net," Ian said with enthusiasm as they made for the front door.

A middle-aged woman was sitting behind the desk. She greeted them warmly and introduced herself as Holly Solis, the proprietor of the inn, along with her husband Jared. Wishing the professors a great stay, she gave them two keys as she confirmed the room rate and went over meal times.

With a wave, they headed up to their room on the second floor. It was in the back of the lodge, so they had a glorious view of the stream and woodlands. Quinn made straight for the window to open it before looking at his surroundings. He breathed in the same pine scent Lelia was enjoying a few miles away.

One king-sized bed greeted them, along with night stands on either side, a dresser with a flat-screen television on top, and two easy chairs near the window. They stowed their clothing in the dresser drawers and cleaned up for dinner.

A kiss by the door led to another, before grumbling stomachs voted for food now and loving later. Maple tables were scattered through the small dining room, and they settled at one which gave them a view of the forest. Couples and families surrounded them, their conversations adding a pleasant hum to the midsummer air.

"Do you think they'll have..." Quinn began.

"Beef Wellington? We were lucky enough to have it on our cruise." A mischievous Ian interrupted his husband.

"Got in one, m'lad." Quinn gave out a rich chuckle. "Y'know how some couples say they can finish each other's sentences? Well, we're the only ones I know who can finish each other's paragraphs," he said in satisfaction.

Ian blew on his nails with his customary insouciance. "Must be that Jedi telepathy kicking in."

Quinn's eyes twinkled. "You might just have something there, my young apprentice." He added sotto voce, "Or is that Prentice?"

Dropping his voice to a matching whisper, Ian said, "Master, I have a good feeling about this," knowing Quinn relished his teasing.

"As well you should, Padawan." Quinn locked eyes with Ian, communing with him in a way that went much deeper than mere teasing.

Luckily, the waiter came over with water and warm rolls just then, snapping them out of their joint spell, better indulged in privacy. By the time he'd finished reciting the day's specials, the men were thoroughly back down to earth once more. A good thing, too, otherwise they might have ordered the braised liver.

As it was, since no Beef Wellington graced the menu, they had to look for something else. Apparently, the lodge's staff were not privy to the professors' telepathy. They finally decided on another favorite that was rarely available, Beef Stroganoff. The combination of delicate, inn-made noodles with a savory sour-cream sauce proved as irresistible as a grin from Ian.

While they were waiting for the main course, Ian listed the possible activities for them tomorrow before the play on Saturday night. "I was thinking of taking a boat out on the stream in the morning, if you'd like," he said, dipping a piece of focaccia bread in herbed olive oil.

"Sounds a treat, laddie. We can imagine that it's the Brandywine," Quinn said, after a sip of water.

"You still remember that?" Ian asked in delight.

"I remember every word of our first conversation, Ian." Quinn clasped hands with him on the tablecloth.

"So do I." Ian's fingers gave a squeeze. "I'll never forget it."

Quinn squeezed back. "I've even dreamed about it once or twice. We're on the train, endlessly streaming through the countryside, and you come up to me, offering a hot dog."

Ian was sipping some water and let out a snort at the 'hot dog' part of Quinn's comment. He managed to spray his husband with a bit of water on his cheeks. "Somehow, I'm not surprised." He gave out a chuckle. "Not much need to do a Freudian analysis of that one, Quinn."

Quinn didn't mind a bit that his cheeks were slightly wet; it was worth it to have Ian reach across the table with his napkin to pat them dry. "'Tis the truth, lad." His laughter blended with Ian's. "For some reason, you were dressed like a Jedi apprentice, the whole kit, complete with braid and Knight's tail."

Ian winked at him. "Let me guess -- Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Very perceptive, Padawan mine," drawled Quinn.

"What were you wearing, though?" Ian asked, intrigued by the thought.

Quinn said, "My navy suit, the one I actually wore on the trip."

The waiter brought their entrees, complete with roasted vegetables. They were musing over the incongruity of their outfits in Quinn's dream while they ate.

"We must've looked like the Odd Couple," Ian laughed, "what with me in my coarsecloth and you in your suit."

"It looked just right to me in my dream, somehow." Quinn's smile was warmer than the summer day.

Ian nodded. "Dreams have a way of doing that, of making the unusual seem normal. A dream more ordinary."

"Telepathy and dreams. Sounds like we're in the midst of a fantasy series," Quinn said.

"That'd be fun." Ian took a bite of his Stroganoff. "I'd pick Nightrunner or maybe Darkover."

Quinn asked, "Regis and Danilo?"

"Yeah, I've loved them since I was a teenager. Swordplay and mindspeech -- what's not to love?" Ian chuckled. "Regis is my favorite character in Darkover. He was trapped by his royal heritage, when all he ever wanted to do was explore the galaxy." He sighed. "I know the feeling."

"And Danilo is the only one he wanted to love." Quinn's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "His heart couldn't have chosen more wisely."

"Yes, Danilo's the soul of honor, intelligence, and loyalty." Ian could have been talking about himself, though he was much too modest to realize it.

Quinn thought so, too. "Sounds like a certain lad I know."

Ian gave a self-deprecating grin at the compliment, and both of them used the focaccia to scoop up every trace of sauce. They decided to skip dessert after the rich main course, so they headed up to their room. The bed was turned down for them and could not have looked more inviting. A cream eyelet comforter lay plump over sky-blue sheets, both just waiting for the men to hop onboard.

Since they'd spent a full day at Luke before driving up here, they were more than ready to accept the invitation. They stripped down to their boxer-briefs and slid into bed. The sheets were cool against their skin as they lay in each other's arms.

Quinn gazed at Ian, taking in his half-closed eyes, and noticed that his herven's hand was heavy over his stomach. "Not one bit of oomph between us, laddie," he said gently. "Time for sleep."

* * *

Luckily, the shower enclosure in their bathroom had more than enough room for two healthy men and their healthy appetites. Saturday morning brought with it a renewed playfulness after a good night's sleep. As soon as they had cleaned off all signs of school, travel, and bed, they started to play.

They made for each other's arms, just like last night, but with the energy sleep had given them. With water cascading down on them, they kissed and kissed, moving from lips to whatever they could reach. Quinn lingered over nuzzling Ian's copper spikes, bristling out like the world's most cuddly porcupine, the water making them softer and the shampoo making them herbal-essenced. Ian was intent upon licking every square inch of his husband's chest in a leisurely swirl.

Quinn felt Ian hardening against his thigh, just as his cock gave Ian's stomach an inquisitive bump. "Here, lad?" he asked in a gravelly whisper.

"Here," said Ian decisively.

"What would you like, me boyo?" Quinn said, his voice impossibly deeper.

"Fuck me through the tile!" came Ian's incendiary answer.

Quinn gasped; pre-come started to trickle down his thigh with the water. He didn't need to be told twice. He turned Ian to the wall, reluctantly losing eye contact for the moment, though the green flash of mischief he saw last was burned into his retinas. Since the herbal shampoo was even slicker than the soap, he used it to coat first  
himself and then Ian, letting his fingers gently stretch him for what was to come.

Tilting Ian's hips back to the perfect position with a shaky hand, Quinn planted his feet firmly on the rubber mat and put one arm around his laddie, between his chest and the wall. His plump cock was eagerly awaiting the embrace of Ian's body. He gave it one more coat of shampoo and nudged between Ian's cheeks. Pushing his way into that tight heat was one of the most exquisite feelings in the galaxy.

After a few carful moments, Quinn was all the way in. He held still for a long minute and could feel his breathing synchronize with his husband's. Christ, it felt good! He nuzzled into copper hair, darkened by water, waiting for Ian to adjust to his size.

Ian began to whimper at the magnificent feeling of Quinn's cock inside him. His hips started to flex and wiggle in unconscious invitation...

...An invitation Quinn had no hope of resisting. And Ian was his only hope of satisfaction. He began to thrust into his herven in long, even strokes, relishing Ian's grunts of punctuation. He hit all of his lad's hot spots, knowing exactly what angle to use by the pitch of Ian's groans, as if he were the most gifted mathematician since Einstein.

Quinn belatedly remembered to grab Ian's cock, not only as a caress, but also to protect it from the unforgiving tile. He tried to muster the concentration to stroke Ian and stroke into him, but it became increasingly difficult. The way Ian tightened around him was making him harden even further. His thrusts started to become erratic, and he had to steady himself on his feet, just as he had at the beginning.

Ian gave out a howl when Quinn scored the master shot -- the most authoritative direct hit on his prostate yet, and that took them both over the edge. Warm rushes filled Ian, while warm rushes spilled over Quinn's hand. They just stood there for a moment as fine tremors flickered through them.

Ian was grateful to have his herven's protective arm around him, steadying him. When he felt stable enough, he turned into Quinn's arms and they hugged for longer than they'd made love. Finally, they mustered the strength to wash all over again, and under, too.

The fun of drying each other would have started Round Two, but they were literally all played out already. Wrapped in fluffy navy blue towels, they headed for the dresser to get their clothes. They dressed quickly, as ravenous for breakfast now as they'd been for their lovemaking earlier. A quick thank-you kiss, and they were striding down the hall towards the dining room.

Fewer people were there today, largely because it was already 9:30 a.m. They picked a table by the window, where an oak tree held sway outside, much to Quinn's approval. The ceiling fan was on and the windows were open, since the temperature outside was in the 60s. They only turned on the air conditioning at the lodge when it was over 80.

The menu looked just as delightful as the one for last night's dinner, although it couldn't come close to this morning's feast in the shower. Quinn decided upon banana-nut waffles, while Ian wanted a spinach-mushroom omelet with sausages. When the waitress brought over cinnamon maple syrup for Quinn's meal, Ian almost changed his mind.

"What are the chances of getting a bit of your waffles?" asked Ian, eyes sparkling merrily.

"So you want to poach some of my breakfast, do you, now, lad?" Quinn teased, loving it that Ian was still of a mind to poach his food after all these years.

"The food on your plate tastes better." Ian quoted word for word his original answer at the Tolkien symposium at Mace University, over eleven years ago now.

Quinn raised his water glass. "May you always want to eat my food,  
laddie."

Ian raised his own glass to clink with Quinn's. "May you always want to share with me."

If they had been alone, they would have kissed. As it was, they settled for a clasp of hands. Their meal came and they tucked in to it, Quinn keeping his word and saving half a waffle and a generous amount of syrup for Ian. There was no conversation for the next little while, as they savored each bite of their breakfast. Ian slid over half his  
sausages onto Quinn's plate, with no comment save a merry sparkle in his eye.

"Okay, I was right about the waffles," Ian said, before taking another bite.

Quinn gladly forked more onto his plate. "They gave me enough for a football team."

Ian sighed in contentment. "You're so good to me, ma gradh."

When they finished eating, they strolled to their room to get books, then went outside to the terrace overlooking the stream. Quinn read Sedaris' "Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk," while Ian enjoyed Roth's "The Professor of Desire." So engrossed were they that over an hour passed by seemingly in an instant. The spell was only broken when Quinn brushed an oak leaf off of Ian's hair, his hand lingering there for a little while.

"Feel like a bit of boating?" Ian asked.

"Sounds grand," replied Quinn.

After a detour to the dining room to ask for some bottled water, they headed out to the stream. A couple of skiffs were tied to a post by the water's edge. Quinn stepped inside one, holding onto Ian for balance, and sat down on one of the two wooden benches. Ian grabbed the post for support while getting in, then untied the boat. He sat down on the second bench, so that he was facing Quinn, who handed him a paddle with a smile, then dipped the other in the blue-green water. They started to stroke in sync from different sides of the skiff.

It was cool out on the water, with trees and ferns dappling them with shade on what would otherwise be a sun-drenched day. They kept going until they were out of sight of the lodge, and all that surrounded them was nature in infinite shades of blue, green, and brown. Then they put their paddles against the sides of the boat, freeing their hands so they could embrace each other. A kiss naturally followed.

Quinn was literally in his element now; Qui-Gon could not have been more into the Living Force than he.

Ian was, as always, delighted that such a big man could be so gentle with him. The tenderness with which Quinn kissed him was melting him more than the sun off the water, and he kissed Quinn in adoration.

"This was a good idea, lad." Quinn trailed his hand through the pristine stream, then playfully rubbed the water over Ian's arm.

"Mmmmm. Nice and cool," Ian purred. He returned the favor and ran his hand along his husband's forearm. It reminded him of their bottled water, so he reached into the back of the skiff, where he had stowed the Evian. He threw one bottle to Quinn and got another one for himself.

Drinking and drifting along the stream was a wonderful way to spend an intimate couple of hours. Then they paddled back at a leisurely pace, enjoying their glide through the water. By the time they returned to the lodge, they were ready for lunch. They used the facilities in their room first, then went downstairs into the hubbub of the dining room.

After the privacy of their boating adventure, they had to get used to the small talk surrounding them. The tables by the window were all taken now, so they sat in the center of the room. Their waitress did not come by for a few minutes, giving them plenty of time to look over the menu. One of the advantages of staying at a small lodge was that  
each day, the selections were likely to change.

"Look, Quinn, they have blackberry cobbler with vanilla gelato for dessert." Ian's enthusiasm was almost enough to convince Quinn to share it with him.

"Remember, we're taking everyone out to dinner tonight at 6, just before the play," Quinn said. "If we eat too much now, you probably won't be hungry later."

"Well, maybe it will still be available on this evening's menu," Ian said hopefully.

By the time they had decided to order one crab pot pie to share, their waitress was ready for them. Since they'd already had bottled water, they asked for watermelon lemonade with their meal.

Ian started drumming his fingers on the table, then added a sneaker-tapping accompaniment. Luckily, it was a carpeted floor, or the others around them would have heard his symphony.

Quinn looked on indulgently; Ian in waiting mode was a physics lesson in potential energy. He tried to distract him: "When do you think the rest of the family will get here?"

"Well, Monty's car has been in the shop for the past couple of days, but the last time he called, he said it should be ready sometime this afternoon. He and Kathy probably will be here with the grandfolks in a few hours." Ian sipped his lemonade.

"It'll be nice to see everybody again," said Quinn. "The whole family hasn't been together since the cruise."

Their pot pie came and when they saw the size of it, they were glad they'd ordered only one. The waitress must have been as diplomatic as the professors, since she chose to bring two dinner plates and put the pie on a platter between them on the table. They dug in happily, savoring the light pastry crust, the chardonnay sauce, and the delicate slivers of crabmeat.

By the time they finished eating, the dining room had emptied out around them. They got a game of Scrabble from the front desk and enjoyed a fierce linguistic sparring match on the terrace. When Quinn heard Ian yawn for the second time, he suggested a nap for two.

They dragged up to their room, stripped down to their boxer-briefs, which had become de-facto pajamas, and got into bed. The room had already been cleaned for the day; fortunately, for the sake of propriety and the cleaning staff, they had made love in the shower that morning and washed everything away themselves.

Now they curled up together in between cool-clean sheets and were asleep within moments.

* * *

The warble of a robin near their window woke Quinn up. His left side was warm where Ian snuggled into him. His crinkles came out to play at the sight of tousled curls on his shoulder. As if he could see this beneath his eyelids, Ian stirred in his arms and opened his eyes.

"Sleep well, laddie?" Quinn rumbled.

"Mmm-hmm," Ian said as he stretched. He looked over at the clock. "It's 4:52 already. Let's see if they've checked in."

Quinn reached a long arm out to grab the phone, while keeping Ian in the cradle of his body. He spoke briefly with the clerk at the front desk. "Yes," he said to Ian, "they arrived half an hour ago."

Ian took the phone from Quinn to call Monty. "Yeah, We'll be outside in ten minutes," he said at the end of the call before handing it back to Quinn, so he could put it back in its cradle.

"What's up, lad?" asked Quinn.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Ian teased. "Actually, Monty invited us to play a game of volleyball with Dad and him before dinner."

"Now that's the second-best way to work up an appetite that I can think of," Quinn said with a wink.

They were already wearing t-shirts and shorts, so they used the facilities and headed outside. They spotted Keith and Monty on the back lawn, near the volleyball net. The four of them exchanged hugs and smiles.

"The others are resting upstairs after the trip," Keith said. He walked to the far side of the net with Monty, and the professors got into position. Since Monty had the ball, he served it, with a booming serve Ian well remembered. A rambunctious, entertaining game ensued. Quinn and Ian ended up winning, 25-23. They gave each other a high five.

"We'd better call it quits now," Monty said. "I want to clean up before dinner."

"Re-match tomorrow," Keith called, as the men went to their separate rooms so they could get ready for their night together.

The courtly Quinn suggested that Ian take the first shower, since they didn't have enough time to make love before meeting the family. While Ian was washing, Quinn brushed his teeth and shaved. Then he took his turn in the shower, while Ian got dressed, this time in a shirt, jacket, and neatly pressed slacks.

They were at the dining room door at precisely 6 o'clock. The rest of the family was already there, ready for more hugs. John had thought ahead and reserved a table for eight, so they were ushered right in. The couples sat together, with Kathy and Monty sitting across from the professors, and their parents flanking them.

The first thing Ian noticed on the evening's menu was that they still had the blackberry cobbler listed. He knew what he was having for dessert! He also liked Quinn's choice of vegetable lasagna and ordered it for himself, too.

Then they settled down to talk with their family. Much of the conversation was about Lelia; the adults in her life were so proud of the little girl. Not only did she excel at her age level in aikido, but here she was, earning the lead role in the camp play.

They all had their cell phones, ready to take pictures of her performance. Quinn thought she was well suited to the role of Buttercup in "The Princess Bride." He mused that Buttercup was probably named after the character in Gilbert and Sullivan's "H.M.S. Pinafore," which the professors had seen at Princeton's McCarter Theater years ago.

Rob Reiner, the director of the movie version, happened to be one of Quinn's heroes. He was the man who had assembled the legal team that defeated California's Proposition 8 at the Supreme Court. He'd also played Mike in "All in the Family" and was the son of the legendary Carl Reiner, who created the classic "Dick Van Dyke" show of the 1960s. Amazing careers for father and son!

"The play starts at 8, and Lelia won't have time to talk with us before that, of course," Monty said. "She said it will last about an hour, then we can go back to her cabin and visit her for a while."

Kathy said, "These past few weeks are the longest I've gone without seeing her since she was born. Can't wait til tonight."

"The good news is that's she's thriving," said Monty. "I think sleepaway camp was a perfect choice for her, now that she's old enough."

Ian nodded. "Yeah, it worked out just fine for you and me, ma deartháir." (my brother) "I had a great time."

Jo and Keith smiled at each other, then Jo said, "We still have your letters from camp, boys. You must've used the word 'fun' at least twice in each one."

* * *

When dinner was over, they split up for a few minutes to freshen up before the ten-minute drive to Camp Chommell. Since Quinn was driving the sporty THX, he and Ian went by themselves, while Monty took everyone else in his SUV, the same as they had when going to the Kalida Lodge.

They arrived at the camp entrance at 7:40, to find Lelia and her fellow campers waiting for their visitors at picnic benches there. The kids were still in their camp uniforms and had big smiles on their faces the moment they saw their families.

As soon as they got out of their cars, Lelia ran up to her family for hugs and kisses. Uncle Qui picked her up and gave her the bear hug she'd been waiting for.

"Hey there, little princess," Dad said, ruffling her hair.

Lelia started to laugh. "Dad, tonight that's literally true."

The whole family laughed at that. When she'd greeted everybody, Lelia ran off to the dining hall with her friends, who had been mooning over Uncle Wan and Uncle Qui, just as she'd expected after their earlier comments. This building was where the play would be presented. The counselors had pushed the tables to the sides of the room and arranged the chairs in rows.

* * *

The family followed Lelia more sedately. They filled up the second row, politely leaving the first row for the relatives of other cast members. Quinn, as always, checked in back of him to see if he was blocking anybody's view. No one was in the seat behind him, so he relaxed into a comfortable position. Ian, with his all-but-Jedi hearing, could make out the sounds of the children bustling behind the makeshift curtains, which were made of blankets stitched together. When the curtains opened, the crowd oohed and aahed over the scenery in the background; the children had painted farmland and castle in their arts and crafts class.

After a few moments' wait, in which more parents sat down, the play started. Against the pretty backdrops, the audience was treated to the adventures of Princess Buttercup and her true love, Westley. The kids milked the comic aspects and one-liners for all they were worth. The mock sword-fights could have benefited from Quinn and Ian's martial arts expertise, but the children were enthusiastic, which was the only thing that mattered to the indulgent adults watching them. The crowd was smiling during most of the play, all the way through to the happy ending. Much to the relief of Lelia and Robert, the boy playing Westley, the counselors had decided against a kiss for them.

The crowd clapped enthusiastically for all of the children and filed out to congratulate their little campers. Lelia wanted to get in every single hug she'd missed over the past few weeks, then led them over to her cabin near the lake.

It was a beautiful moonlit night and they all enjoyed the walk. Lelia was old enough to realize that her grandparents should get the prime seats on her bed, and the others stood or sat on the floor around her.

Everybody had brought care packages; Lelia was the lucky recipient of a ton of goodies, just for her. Her mom's walnut brownies; her uncles' gift of an illustrated edition of "The Hobbit," a leather-bound book that was the size of a mass-market paperback; Ginny and John's present of a few pairs of warm sleep-socks; Jo and Keith's bag of apricots, fresh off the tree from Padua; her dad's badminton set, since she'd told him the camp didn't have one.

Lelia loved them all and thanked everyone with diplomatic flair. She egaled them with stories of camp life: swimming and boating in the lake; archery in the field they'd crossed to get to her cabin; track and field, where she'd won prizes as a sprinter, fine additions to the blue ribbon her uncles had trained her to win in the Alder Run 200.

When her family was getting ready to leave, a pretty young woman came up to them with a smile. She greeted them all warmly, especially the professors. "You must be Lelia's uncles," Molly, Lelia's counselor, said. "I've heard *all* about you."

Quinn, with his sharp eyes, saw a group of teenagers outside the window who appeared to be mooning over himself and Ian. Snapping his attention back to Molly, he chatted with her and the others for a few minutes about Lelia's progress. Then they all said their goodbyes again and headed back to the parking lot.

Monty teased Ian and Quinn as they walked along the path. "You guys have certainly got yourselves a fan club here. Girls swooning right and left."

The guys gave out self-deprecating chuckles and hoped that was the end of Monty's witticisms. But no; they hadn't quite reached the cars yet.

"Just be grateful that you're not actors, fellas," Monty continued, undaunted by the fact that they weren't answering him. "Can you imagine what it would be like then?" The winking lights of the THX as Quinn unlocked the doors saved them from further conversation. Waves all around, then they drove back to the lodge.

Quinn kept the ragtop down, letting them bask in the natural air conditioning of the night woods as they traveled along. The men were both tired after a day of pleasant activities, so they hardly spoke at all. Ian kept his left hand on Quinn's thigh, low enough not to be a distraction when driving.

He started to sing in a soft voice; Quinn recognized the song as "Summer Breeze" by Seals and Crofts, and joined in. By the time they'd finished the final refrain: "Summer breeze makes me feel fine blowing through the jasmine in my mind," they were back in the parking lot of the Kalida Lodge.

They strolled to their room, giving a tired wave to Holly along the way. Quinn put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign up, then locked the door for the night. They stripped to their boxer-briefs, but since it was cool, they put on t-shirts to sleep in. They got under the covers, shared a sweet kiss, and went right to sleep. For some reason, both of them  
dreamed about Princess Leia from Star Wars and her romance with Han Solo.

* * *

Quinn awakened when he felt an insistent nudge against his thigh, a feeling that was happily familiar in the morning. Ian wasn't up yet; his erection had preceded him, so Quinn got up to use the facilities, careful not to brush into Ian and wake him up.

On his way, he looked out of the window into the morning woods. His keen eyes spotted a hedgehog rubbing up against an oak tree and a couple of skylarks enjoying a flyabout. He stopped at the dresser to get a fresh t-shirt, underwear, and socks.

He took a quick shower, in case Ian was interested in some loveplay before breakfast. By the time he came out of the bathroom, Ian was in the midst of the Sunrise Kata to start the day. There was enough room by the side of the bed for Quinn to join him, so they finished the kata together. As they held the final pose, they shared a relaxed smile.

"It's always more fun when we practice aikido together," Ian said.

Quinn nodded. "As soon as you started going to the dojo with me, I felt more in tune with the movements and progression of the katas. Master Yodama noticed it, too."

"I knew there was a reason I've always liked him." Ian grinned in impish delight. "Now it's my turn for a shower. Be back in a few." He kissed Quinn on the way to the bathroom.

Quinn picked up his paperback copy of "Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk" and sat in one of the easy chairs, starting to read where he had left off yesterday. The sound of rushing water made a pleasant background to his reading.

A freshly washed Ian came out in just a towel a little while later. He threw his towel on the arm of Quinn's chair to get his attention, as if that were necessary. Quinn was out of the chair with all but Force-enhanced speed when he saw the nude Ian sashaying towards him, hips at full tilt.

"I can see I brought the wrong Sedaris book, laddie. "Naked" would have been a better choice for today." Quinn's brogue was more pronounced than it had been in days. Somehow, when he became aroused, his ancestral accent surfaced along with his excitement.

And no one knew that better than Ian, who lived to hear that amazing lilt in his husband's voice. Chuckling softly, he pushed Quinn back into the chair and straddled his legs, skin rubbing over cotton boxer-briefs. He had the high ground now and intended to use it to his advantage.

Quinn practically threw the book on a table, eager to embrace his lad, steadying him and caressing him simultaneously. He tilted his head up hopefully for a kiss, an unusual position for him to be in, but he liked it too, for a change of pace.

Ian granted him the kiss, as well as another, for good measure. He was still slightly wet from the shower and watched in pleasure as a drop from his hair slid down Quinn's cheek. He leaned down to lick it off, his tongue following the entire track of the droplet as it made its way to his herven's chin.

Quinn closed his eyes in bliss at the feel of Ian's tongue on his skin. "Ah, love," he said aloud, hardly realizing he'd done so, centering as he was on the delectable feel of his cock hardening and pushing against its cotton pouch.

Ian felt it too, pressing into his inner thigh, and it sent a delicious shudder throughout him. He could feel the pre-come right through the cotton, writing Quinn's love on his skin with slick strokes.

"What d'ya need, lad?" he asked in a voice so guttural Ian could barely understand him.

In answer, Ian reached into the heather-grey pouch and cupped the tip of Quinn's cock until he'd collected enough pre-come to slick and stretch himself for lovemaking.

Quinn's eyes shot open when he realized what Ian was doing. He couldn't remove his briefs with Ian securely seated on top of him, but he could ease himself through the opening of his underwear pouch, although he was so hard now, it was a tricky maneuver.

When Ian saw Quinn's erection in all of its glory, he nearly came with no stimulation whatsoever. He held himself back by force of will, wanting that gorgeous cock inside him for as long as possible. "Hurry!" he almost shouted. Strong hands gripped his arms as he leaned backwards, tilting his hips into position.

Quinn took immediate advantage of the access, thankful that his husband was a gymnast. He pushed his way in with one authoritative thrust and felt Ian tightening around him. That and the low, keening sounds his lad was making drove him to thrust hard and deep, again and again.

Without Quinn's hands holding him upright, Ian would have collapsed onto the carpet by now. His husband was hitting the bulls-eye with every single stroke, and all he could do was give one continuous groan in response.

Quinn could tell that Ian was beyond excited, all but convulsing around him now. His cock reveled in the rippling flesh embracing it so perfectly. A further pulse of engorgement, and he was coming into his lad. He dimly felt the wetness seep into his shirt in erratic streaks. He made himself pull out of Ian's blissful warmth, so he could pull his herven securely onto his chest, before Quinn sprawled back in the chair.

No sound but deep breathing for the next few moments.

"Un-fucking-believable!" Ian crowed.

That just about summed it up for Quinn, too.

"You've given me a proper pounding this weekend, ma gradh," Ian said, satisfaction evident in every word.

"Happy to oblige," said Quinn. "I'm..." The phone rang, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

Ian let out a combination laugh and groan when he turned to look at the clock. "Uh-oh! I promised Monty we'd have breakfast with everybody at 9 before we all head back home. That was over half an hour ago."

The ringing continued, until the call went to voice mail.

Quinn and Ian's laughter mingled as Ian grabbed the towel, now almost hanging down to the carpet, to clean both of them up. Then they creaked out of the easy chair, and Ian washed first so he could call Monty back.

"We're in for a ribbing, I just know it," Ian fretted, but somehow even that prospect couldn't keep the grin Quinn treasured off of his face.

It was a fittingly playful climax to their trip.


End file.
